Find the Rainbow
by Sakura Negai-chan
Summary: A spin off of COTC...kind of the way I wanted it! I really liked Malachai--Courtney Gains was perfect for the role, so I put more of him in. I OWN NO RIGHTS to the original COTC...But I'm really proud of what I've done with the fic!
1. Default Chapter

Hi, everyone! Yes, it's me again…Sakura! I'm working on 2 fics at once…my 13 Ghosts one, and now I've started a COTC one. I love that movie, and I devour ANYTHING from Stephen King! In this fic, I have developed the children into people, and not just twisted killing machines. It is similar to what I have done with the ghosts in 13 Ghosts. I also began the story with Job and Malachi as the best and closest of friends, and (sadly) they grow further and further apart as MalachI is taken more and more by He Who Walks Behind the Rows. Although I OWN NOTHING of COTC, I practically have the movie memorized…seriously, the other day I recited the whole scene to my friend Noah where Malachi said "Does He speak to you, Isaac?" to the point where Isaac is overthrown. Then Noah slapped me and told me that if I didn't shut up, I would end up like Isaac did, then he'd burn my DVD.

**The following song is not mine, it's from the original soundtrack to "Lost Universe," and anime series. I just thought it would be a nice prelude to the story with the same name, and it kind of sets the mood.**

Find the Rainbow

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Looking up at a rainbow arch across the sky

Everyone smiles

Yet, they scornfully glance toward the coming rain

A rain that will give birth to a rainbow

Unaware, they firmly grip their umbrellas

I was born to walk in the rain

Rain on me, I want to scream

Everyone wants the peace of the world

I'll walk through these tangled paths amid deaf ears

Without stumbling, even if just for today

I want to walk, though I'm sad

It is unbelievably cold at times

And I find reality oppressive

But my believing heart is my refuge

And my happiness is undisturbed

The tears I want to cry, I turn into passionate sweat

And I resolve to follow my dreams into the future

I was born to walk in the rain

Whether I'm heartbroken or impassioned

Everybody wants the peace of the world

With a clear goal in sight

Toward the immaculate crystalline days

I go forward, until I reach them

Fragile victims, hatred and wars

Manipulated by the souls of the defiled

Chapter 1: Job

It was three years ago. I was seven and Sarah was five. There weren't any other kids in church that Sunday. They were all out in the cornfields with Isaac, the manipulative child preacher who had gotten kids even older than him to listen to his words. He was only nine at the time, and he had a fifteen-year-old guy called Malachi running after him and doing what he said. Dad didn't let me go into the corn with the others. He said he didn't like me hanging out with potential killers. I saw no problems with it whatsoever. Sarah didn't go either. She was home with mom playing sick; penny-under-the-tongue trick. Works every time.

After church, Dad took me to Hanson's Café, just like always. He went to call Mom because he was worried about the fever that Sarah didn't really have. I ordered my usual from Mr. Hanson; a strawberry shake. As I waited, I decided to spin around in my chair…oops, to fast…CRASH!!! I flew off my chair and went sailing into the pinball machine in the corner of the room.

A few minutes later, I woke up. No one else in the café seemed to have noticed, or even cared, except for one person. I was still dizzy, so I couldn't tell exactly who it was. But the person helped me up off the floor and sat me down at the bar.

"You okay?" the person asked. As I recognized the person's soft teenage voice and his silky wave of shoulder-length orange hair came into focus, I realized that it was none other than Isaac's high school sophomore disciple, Malachai Boardman. I figured that their meeting in the cornfield was over.

"Yeah…but my head feels like it got kicked by an elephant.

"So does my ribcage," said Malachi leaning back in his chair and lying a pale, freckled hand on his ribs, near his solar plexus. "But I know it's just because I just got clobbered by a flying kid." The two of us giggled a little, and Mr. Hanson delivered to me my shake. Malachi immediately took it.

"Malachi that's mine!"

"Oh, really? Thanks." He continued to take multiple sips of my shake, and he paid Mr. Hanson for another one, which he gave to me.

"Where's all the others?"

"Oh, they're coming. Where you're little sister?"

"At home…sick." When I said the word "sick," I made the little quote marks with my fingers.

"Penny trick?" asked Malachi. I nodded my head, and he continued, "Yeah. You'll come to find that you'll be using that one a lot when you get into high school…to many exams, no time to study…" But he trailed off, and glanced solemnly out a far window. I looked too, and I saw Isaac standing there, wearing a large, wide-brimmed, Quaker-style hat with formal church clothes. We heard the front door to the restaurant open, and in poured a few more guys about the same age as Malachi. One looked like he was hiding something up his sleeve. Another hand one hand suspiciously in his pocket, while the last one locked the door to the café behind him.

"Malachi, what's going on?" But when I looked over, my friend wasn't there. He was over at the pinball machine again, sliding something out from underneath it and slipping it under his belt. I peered mover the counter to Anne, one of the younger waitresses, who was busy pouring some powdery substance into a pot of coffee. And much to my horror, she went over to a table of innocent adults and poured it into their cups! I didn't want to look at what was happened, but I didn't have to. My attention was diverted from the ill-fated adults to the boys who had just entered the café.

"Amos, you take that side!" yelled a boy with slick black hair as he swiftly cut the throats of three different people with a jackknife that he had produced from under his sleeve…so that's what he was hiding. Amos obeyed, and took out about two more with a meat cleaver. But they were only killing grownups.

"Malachi, what are they doing? Stop them!"

"They're obeying the word of God. I cannot stop them," replied the red head seriously. That's when I saw the dagger. My own sweet friend, the boy who wanted nothing more than to grow up, become a biologist, get married and have two kids, a boy and a girl. The same guy with such good dreams and a promising future was now standing before me, slaughtering the adult citizens of Gatlin, Nebraska. From the looks of it, he was not enjoying it. Neither was I. I saw my father go down by Malachi's very own blade. Of course I wasn't enjoying it. I hardly noticed the people at the table choking to death on whatever Anne had mixed into their coffee.

Finally, it was all over. The kids were all wiping their weapons off on their shirts, dusting off their hands, and leaving, moving on to the next unsuspecting area of the town. One by one, they would take out each restaurant, each store, each home…until all the adults were wiped out. Soon, Malachi and I were the only ones left in Hanson's. I was younger then, so I didn't understand that by nightfall, both my parents and every older person I had known and had become close to were gone forever.

MalachI looked at me, and I looked at Malachi. In my eyes, he saw confusion. I his eyes, I saw terror, sadness, and regret. Did he know what he had done? Did he even know why he did it? Malachi looked down at the bleeding corpses lying sprawled all over the floor, and his stomach obviously couldn't take it. He leaned over the counter and threw up everything he'd had that day. He wiped off his face. I saw his eyes get glassy, and it depressed me. Never had I seen such a strong person like this. When I decided that I myself couldn't take it anymore, I ran up to him and hugged him as tight as I could. I could feel his heart beating heavily against my shoulder, and I knew-- he was required to do more of this evil deed. He wasn't done.

"Jobie…I'm so sorry…" my friend choked out. And he turned from me, ran to the door, and caught up with a group of others out on the road.

***Well there's chapter one…oh gosh, I just made myself cry… dang…well, I'll have chapter two up soon, just gotta get another tissue…lol***

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	2. Chapter 2

Okay, friends…here's chapter two. This one focuses more on Vicky and Burt. And it's also a happier chapter. Again, I don't own any rights or anything to COTC, I just write fan fics of it and obsess over it. So you know, I changed the song that Vicky sings to Burt just cuz I felt like it. Also, a reply to a reviewer:

SnuffSnuff, thanx for your very positive review! I'm glad you enjoyed it…yes must hug Jobie! Such a cutie! And also, thank you for welcoming me warmly into the world of Those Who Are Obsessed With Children Of The Corn! J 

Chapter 2: Sarah

Slowly and stealthily, she got out of bed and crept across the room. An old floorboard creaked. _Shoot, _she thought as she looked over at the man lying on the bed, hogging the covers, _did he hear that? Please say he didn't. _He didn't stir, so she continued around the bed and over to the nightstand where she found a small item. She pulled it out of the drawer, brought it near the man's face and blew hard. The man awoke with a start at the noise of the obnoxious party blower.

"Happy birthday!" she shouted as the man jumped and hit his head on the headboard.

"Vicky--" the man muttered as the woman smothered him in kisses. Vicky then let him go, and picked up a donut with a candle in it from the table.

"I love you Burt! Blow it out and make a wish!" Burt blew out the candle, and Vicky asked him what he had wished for.

"I wish you would let me sleep!" Burt moaned jokingly, but Vicky wasn't finished yet.

"But now, a little performance for my birthday boy!" Vicky got up, put a record into her record player which she had dragged along with her, and the music started, with Vicky dancing and singing along to it. _(**Song isn't mine…it's from Cardcaptor Sakura**)_

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Tip Tap! Love is always candy,  
Tasty, like fruit.  
Good luck. That's right, every day is Sunday  
Don't confuse my heart. 

Let's go out to the city after the rain  
Making our curiosity swell up like a bubblegum bubble  
The puddle reflects a blue, blue sky  
Without a doubt, tears  
Will dry up too. Jelly bean  
Ah, in the pastel sunlight  
Having both happy days and unlucky days  
Let's walk forward slowly.  
Ah, ah, ah, ah

"You're insane, Vicky!" exclaimed Burt as he pulled Vicky into his arms. He clapped for her, and she clapped to. "But look at the time! We gotta get going. We've got a lot of driving to do!"

"Couldn't we just forget about it?"

"No. I'm one of those doctors who's totally full of myself and is really devoted to my job."

"Isn't your job just sticking a cold metal things on someone's chest, then telling them they've got two days to live?"

"That's not funny."

Burt wasn't speaking to Vicky. Vicky couldn't figure out why. Wasn't _she_ the one who was supposed to be mad at _him?_

"You made fun of my profession!" Burt shouted grouchily.

"Come on, Burt, you take everything so seriously!"

"Jerk! I worked HARD to get where I am now!"

"Oh, give it up, you old windbag." And the two just sat in silence for a while, not caring to even look at each other. They passed by cornfields…and cornfields…and more cornfields…until they came across a cornfield…and a sign welcoming them to Nebraska…and some more cornfields.

***

"I'm scared, Joseph!"

"Can't we come with you? We don't like it here!" I asked, _I_ being Sarah. 

"You're gonna be fine! Now cut it out!" Joseph glanced nervously around him. He, my brother Job and I (Sarah) were hiding in an old run down shed in the corn, far from the clearing where all the other scary people were. Joseph gazed into the corn, and said, "I swear I'll come back for you, as long as you just wait patiently until I get back and don't tell anyone where I've gone. Got it?"

"Got it!" Jobie and I both said in unison. Joseph gave us each hugs, grabbed up his little suitcase, and hurried out of the barn once we called to him that no one was looking. Joseph raced out through the corn, not looking back once. Not bothering with the neatly mowed rows, he ran straight through the corn itself…but I don't think he made it too far. Because from out of the corner of the corn field, I saw a young man, no older than eighteen, walk slowly out into the corn after Joseph.

…Meanwhile…

_"We are the motorists_

Who don't do anything

We just drive around

And look at corn…" sang Burt, changing a few words to "The Pirates Who Don't Do anything" from Vegitales.

"Burt. Honey. So far, you've been either mean and sour, or just plain obnoxious. Start being a little less of both, or at least make up your mind between them. Just cool down…let's see if we can get some music." Vicky reached towards the radio and turned the dial. For a while, she got nothing but static, but then she came to what sounded like a preacher…only the voice was really young sounding, and it was preaching about things that many people would object to. Soon, Vicky and Burt began mocking him, and eventually shut it off.

"Are we there yet?" asked Vicky, trying to get revenge for Burt's horrid obnoxiousness.

"No."

"Are we there yet?"

"No…"

"Are we there yet?"

We'll be there when we get there!"

"I gotta go."

"Pick a cornfield, any cornfield. No one will look."

"Are we there yet? I gotta go."

…Back in the corn…

Joseph raced faster and faster through the cornfields, having no clue of who was now pursuing him. But soon, he got lost. He didn't know which way was out, or which way was in. But he would soon not have to worry about it anymore. For Malachai was not far away…

"AAAUUGH!!!" we heard Joseph scream from far away. So, Malachai had already found him.

"I didn't do anything to you! Just let me go! I hate it here! I promise, I won't tell a soul!" pleaded Joseph, knowing that he could never get out of Malachai's strong grasp.

"Joseph…is the worship of Him no longer upon you? What's your problem? Have you no shame in what you have tried to do?"

"Malachai--just--let go--" Joseph struggled beneath Malachai's arm, and twisted to look the redhead square in the face. "Malachai, I know you don't want to be like this. I saw you and Job through a window back in Hanson's three years ago!" At this, Malachai's face turned from the stern satanic disciple to the frightened, saddened young boy he truly was.

"Joseph! Don't lie to me! You saw nothing--I--I left with the others…" 

"Your voice cracked. Malachai, leave with me. Later, we'll come back for Sarah and Job, and we can fix this all! I can see it in your eyes, it's what you really want!" But Malachai could not face the truth, and he'd die before he let a mere child such as Joseph see him break down. Which is why before he blinked and allowed his tears and feelings to pour out, he slit the throat of Joseph and cast him out of the corn. Hearing Malachai tromp back through the corn near the shed, Jobie and I were afraid to stick around any longer, so we fled the area and went to play in our old house…highly forbidden, but we weren't worried about us. I was Isaac's little pet.

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	3. Chapter 3, little bit of 4

And then, the faults split!!! The social studies teacher wearing the ugly red sweater and the hideous grey pants fell through the large gap in the floor, and all the slaves--eh, excuse me, I mean--all the STUDENTS escaped!!!

Actually.that didn't happen. Firstly, I don't think there is even one earthquake-able fault in Illinois (where I am), and secondly, I think that was just a bit of wishful thinking on my part from being stuck in a social studies classroom with them most horrid teacher of my life.okay, I wrote that when I was actually in the class, trying to think up a good third chapter for this.so here it is. I am also including part, and perhaps all, of chapter four.it all depends on if I can get my hands on a pot of coffee and stay awake long enough. But first, I need to reply to a reviewer:

Khrissa: Yes, Malachai is absolutely irresistible! Get your's up soon so I can read it, and I'll be sure to review! Can't wait! Keep in touch, k?

Chapter 3--Job

"Okay, Vicky, look," Burt huffed at his girlfriend, now entirely fed up with her total obnoxiousness. He pulled out a map from the glove compartment and said, "_This _is where we are. _This _is where we're trying to get," pointing from the small black print that said **Nebraska **to another word further away from it that said **Washington. **"We will be THERE when we GET there!"

"This still does not help the problem that I gotta _GO!" _giggled Vicky. Neither of them were watching the road ahead of them then, which is why they did not see the little boy until it was too late.

"BURT! STOP THE CAR!" But the man lost control in his panic and ran the boy down. The car skidded to a stop on the side of the road, and both Vicky and Burt tumbled out of two broken doors.

"Burt.if you had just ONE brain cell."

"Shut up, Vicky." Burt leapt to his feet and ran to see the child he had just hit. What he saw horrified him. The boy had had his throat cut; he was probably dead before Burt actually hit him with the car. But the wound was still fresh.someone was still out there!

"Burt--" stuttered a weak voice behind him. He whipped around to see a pale faced and horror stricken Vicky gawking down at her hands. "B-Burt.I just got these _done! I just got my nails done, and look what you've done to them!!! W hen I fell out, they got ruined! What have you got to SAY for yourself?!?!?!"_

"Uh, Vicky, don't you think we should be a bit more concerned about the dead kid right now-?"

"Oh, that's right, everything's about YOU, isn't it? Huh? That's always the way! You, you, you! You the big doctor! You the-"

"Fine! Fine! Go back in the car.I don't even want you near me right now-"

"What, am I invading your Doctorly Bubble?"

"GO!!!"

"WHAT ABOUT MY NAILS!?!?"

"WE'LL GET YOU ANOTHER MANICURE IN SEATTLE, NOW GO!" And Vicky obeyed. She strolled back to their little yellow car, got inside and fell asleep. Burt went back to the trunk and was beginning to remove a large black garbage bag when it he felt someone watching him.so he thought, just to be safe, that he should grab the stale five-foot-long party sub sandwich he kept in there for defence, just in case.

In the mean time, out in the corn, Malachai was keeping close watch on what was going on out on the road. _Yellow car just hit Joseph.okay, cool.but what is that man doing with a massive sandwich? _were the thoughts coursing through my twisted mind. _Ah, never mind that. _As Malachai peered through the corn, Malachai saw the man stuffing Joseph the betrayer into the trash bag, then slinking around holding the sandwich up like James Bond would with his gun, doing all the weird spy moves in all the wrong ways. Eventually, he loaded the kid into the car, and got back into it.

"Huh.oh, Burt, you're back!" said Vicky, waking up and stretching. "I had the best dream in the world just now!"

"Uh.but weren't you supposed to have a nightmare and then wake up screaming?"

"Well, yeah, but that's not how I decided to do it this time. You see, I had this really scrummy yummy dream, about a little tortoise, and then-"

"Okay, whatever, time to go on to see if we can find a phone.but we probably won't."

"No, I don't think so either."

***

Sarah and I went and hung out in our old house. We played there a lot.just because we knew it pissed Malachai off. I tried to be nice to Malachai; like I said, we were friends once, but then.then Isaac came along. Malachai told us that playing games and listening to music was forbidden.but it's obvious that that was because no one ever asked him to play.

"Sarah, I've decided that when I grow up, if I ever get out of this piece o' crap town, I'm gonna have all the money in the world! Down on your knees, you silly peasant girl!"

"Me too!"

"Well, if I have all the money, then you can't have it all!"

"Watch me," said Sarah indignantly. And then, without even paying up properly or waiting for her turn, she swiped a little green house off of Boardwalk and replaced it with a hotel. She then picked up my piece and put it on Boardwalk!

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"Is that even _allowed _in this game?" I asked incredulously.

"Uh, yeah, Jobie! Where have _you _been? That'll be a trillion, million, zillion, vigintillion dollars please!"

"What?! Does that kind of money even exist?!"

"Would you like to haggle?"

"Fine," I sighed, now real frustrated with my sister. I picked up the rest of my money and handed it to her. Then, I got an idea. I picked up one of the extra mover pieces and placed it in jail. I told Sarah that I was pretending it was Malachai! We both began laughing together, but it ended quickly. For from out of the doorway, a large jack-knife flew and hit the middle of our game board. We looked up to see none other than my old friend, Malachai, standing there, all pissed off and ready to rip us apart.

"You two--come with me," he commanded as he picked his knife up out of the board and held it up to my neck.

"Sorry, Chai Chai," I said, pointing at him and laughing. Chai Chai was the little sarcastic pet name I made up for him myself. "But you're in jail!" I put my arms around Malachai's hips and moved him to the little square on the Monopoly board that had a picture of a man in a jail cell on it. "Either you gotta pay fifty bucks, get a "get out of jail free" card, or roll doubles." Malachai looked totally clueless as I picked up the card, a pretend fifty dollar bill, and the dice and placed it just out of his reach. He started to walk towards them, but Sarah put an end to that.

"Nuh uh, Chai Chai! You can't get out of jail yet! Gotta stay there!" So Sarah and I giggled at the fact that we had manipulated an absentminded eighteen-year-old into listening to our silly rule, and we left the room, locking the door behind us. 

It was about an hour later when Isaac noticed that Malachai was missing. He was nowhere in any of the cornfields, the Clearing had been vacant almost the whole day. So Isaac began checking in the homes. What he saw in Sarah's old bedroom scared him half to death.

"Malachai--what--what the--what ARE you DOING in here?" gasped Isaac, grabbing the wall for support so he wouldn't fall over from shock.

"I'm in jail," stated Malachai bluntly, now sitting cross legged on top of the game board, "and I'm not allowed to get up and get anything to get me out." He stretched his arms out in front of him as far as he could, but he still was unable to reach anything. Isaac, quite annoyed by his disciple's utter idiocy, picked up the "get out of jail free" card, and handed it to Malachai.

"Thanx, Isaac."

"Sure."

~*~*~That's it for chapter 3! I just LOVE it when hot guys are so naïve! Like In the movie How To Deal! Now, I am NOT a huge chick flick fan, but.Trent Ford is just..DROOLWORTHY!

Chapter 4--Vicky

"It's like we're on the dang moon! A truck hasn't even gone by!" I complained to my boyfriend. As if on cue, three men in spacesuits walked across the road and disappeared into the corn. Burt and I sat speechless for a second before he broke the silence and said, "That really was _not _funny."

~*~*Okay, you know what? I just cannot stay up any longer. So sorry, guys! I'll have the rest up soon though!*~*~


	4. not a chapter, just a note

Hi, everyone. Okay, I'm really sorry, but I'm not going to be able to update for a while…but don't worry, I will update! See, I had chapter 4 while ago, and then my computer shut down for no real reason, and everything's just a disaster…and I've got so much other stuff, I'm going to FL for the next 4 days to play @ Disney World with my band, and just OMG, so much stuff to do!!!! Grrhrr!!!! Anyway, I'm gonna see what I can do about a real quick update in the 13 Ghosts obsessed section, because they've been waiting for an update even longer than you all have…oh, I feel so bad. Oh well. When I come back from Florida all tired and plagued by sunburn, all I'll want to do is sit in front of the computer for 3 hours, so I'll get some stuff done then. I'm so sorry, and again, thanx for your patience! BTW, my new e-mail address is Slainte@writing.com. For whatever reason, my mom took away my screen name. TTYL


	5. NEW CHAPTERS!

Wow…okay, sorry about the big delay. My life is just getting more and more chaotic every day! But I'm back now! Here's the rest of chapter 4!

Ignoring the spacemen, the two drove in silence for a while. Burt began whistling "Singin' in the Rain" as if they were just going to drive for miles and miles, as if they had nothing in the trunk of their car that required tending to.

"Um, Burt..?

"Mmmmmmmmmyes?"

"Burt, dear, do you know where we are?"

"Ah…not really, no."

"Oh. Okay." They didn't speak for a long time after that. But at long last, Vicky broke the silence by saying, "You know, honey, there is another possibility."

"And that is?" asked Burt, driving right past a gas station.

"We could stop and ask for directions," suggested the woman. The car came to a screeching halt, and Burt turned to scowl at Vicky.

"Ask…for directions? ASK FOR DIRECTIONS?! HAVE YOU ANY IDEA HOW AGAINST MY RELIGION THAT IS?"

"Burt, what religion are we talking about here?"

"GUY-ism! Guys DON'T ask for directions! Don't you know the 5 Laws of Being a Guy?"

"Uh…of course not, dearest."

"Well, here they are: Thou Shall Not Ask for Directions, Thou Shall Not Cuddle, Thou Shall Choose the TV Remote Control Above All Else, Thou Shall Wear Nothing But Undergarments whilst Mowing the Lawn, AND--"

"Honey, I'm not sure I want to hear the last one." Burt seemed offended, but Vicky didn't care as she muttered the word "freak" under her breath.

***

"Okay now, Malachai, since you're out of jail, please explain to me just one thing: _how _could you _ever_ fall for a stupid trick like that?!" bellowed Isaac. "They're little kids!"

"I didn't wanna sit there and argue with them though. I hate them enough as it is…" Then Malachai stopped and shut himself up. He didn't want to keep bad mouthing them. _I think I hate them, _he thought, _I mean--games are forbidden. But why am I doubting what I'm saying?_

"Malachai Boardman!"

"Aaah! What?!" Malachai was startled out of his thoughts by another harsh cry from his preacher.

"Do you have anything to say for your fat-headed foolishness?" Isaac interrogated his red-haired disciple. The disciple sighed and paced across the floor a little. He looked around the room, then to Isaac and stared him straight in the face and said, "No, Isaac, I do not. Except for two things. Number one: I may in fact be a fool, but at least my hairstyle isn't outdated and slicked with grease to the point where it looks and feels like a bucket of worms. And number two: my head is NOT fat, gravity just likes it better."

"Malachai, stop being an idiot-"

"I know you are but, what am I?" the eighteen-year-old cackled maniacally as Isaac leapt at him and chased him back into the cornfield.

~*~*~And since you've been so patient and I feel so guilty, here's Chapter 5! Also, quick question--I lost my AOL e-mail address, so now I only have my writing.com one. Do any of you know how I can change it so that I can get reviews, etc. on my other one? E-mail me at Slainte@writing.com if you can help me.~*~*~  


Chapter 5

"A dream did come to me last night as I lay sleeping amongst the corn," announced Isaac mysteriously.

"My, God--a dream? Last night while you were…sleeping?!?!??! Why EVER would you have a dream THEN?!" Malachai sprang to his feet with a sarcastic expression of awe across his bright face. "I mean, HONESTLY-"

"Malachai…" said Isaac. He had meant to say it as a threatening growl, but it came out more on the concerned-parent side. "Malachai, I think you and I need to have a little talk after this." And Isaac went on to explain to the rest of the children how Joseph had betrayed them and about how two outlanders were going to be coming into their town. It was then when off to his left, Malachai spotted Sarah and Job creeping into the clearing. 

He sat there staring at them for a while. They did not seem to notice, which was probably a good thing. He had an odd feeling deep in the back of his mind; part of him wanted to go over there and beat the crap out of the little sacrilegious brats, but there was another part of him that just wanted to play with them…to let Sarah win at "Checkers" again…to help Job with his math homework, then take him for a treat at Hanson's…

"Malachai Boardman!" At the sound of the angered yell, the red-head jumped about three feet and whipped around to see Isaac standing in the centre of the Clearing, which was other wise empty. 

"Oh--uh, sorry-"

"Malachai, what's going on?" Isaac interrogated. He took a few steps toward his follower, who was lying on the ground supported by his arms.

"What do you mean, Isaac?"

"I mean, what's wrong with you? Malachai…" Isaac knelt down beside his friend and turned his head so that the two were face to face. "Malachai, you're not all that happy, are you?" Malachai glanced at Isaac as if to tell him that he had no idea what he was talking about, but Malachai wasn't fooling anybody. Apparently, Isaac was aware that Malachai had no longer cared to pay full attention to the sermons. He also noticed that Malachai wasn't spending as much time in the corn; he always seemed to be wandering off, and that's why he'd always catch Sarah and Job who never seemed to be in the corn anymore either.

"Malachai, you still have another year before you reach the age of favour. You can still back out of this. But if you sincerely no longer wish to be one of us…" Isaac trailed off. Malachai didn't answer. It had been three full years since he'd killed his own parents…since he killed the kind, elderly man at the ice cream shop who always gave the kids free ice cream…since he assisted in the ruin of so many lives. It didn't seem right, him backing out now, especially after he had been the one doing most of the killing. But he had this strange, rather obnoxious doubt in the back of his mind…he sensed that a horrible tragedy was at hand.

"Malachai," Isaac said softly, "Malachai, you know what I will have to do to you if you decide you do not want to be with us."

"Yes…you have to kill me." The two sat in silence for a short while, Malachai absorbing their surroundings. _I wish that we had never done this, _he thought. _Just look at all the lives I've ruined, including mine. How did I ever fall for Isaac's shit? _He looked around at the corn and breathed in the bittersweet smell of autumn. He certainly wouldn't miss the corn, but he would miss the peace. When there weren't sacrifices and Passages going on, everyone and everything moved slowly, there was no need for rush.

Then it hit him. If Malachai were to die, then there was no hope for Sarah, Job, or any of the others who felt the same way. Wanting to die would have been selfish of him. But he had something else in mind already.

"How long will you give me to make my decision?" Malachai asked.

"Until tonight, when Amos leaves."

"Right." And Malachai stalked off, not to consider being brutally sacrificed by having his organs torn out and offered to the god by Isaac, but to think of a plan of action once and for all.

~*~*~*~You know what? I'm on a roll! Here's some more!~*~*~*~

Chapter 6

"Burt, aside from three teenagers we found trying to stuff corn in through the windows of our car, this place is deserted! We've been all over the town twice now, and there's no point in beating a dead horse!"

"There's no point any sort of horse, dead or alive, Vicky. It's cruel. But I think I saw that door over there swing shut." Burt pulled into the driveway of a washed-out yellow house that looked about 50 years old. They got out and walked warily up the front porch steps, careful of the rotting oak wood.

"Hello?" Burt said, knocking a few times. "Is anyone home? We've got a dead kid in our trunk-"

"Burt!" rasped Vicky angrily.

"What? It's true!"

"I know it's true, but come on!"

So Burt thought about it, then called out again.

"We'd like to use your phone! We have a slight emergency…nothing big, though…we were nowhere near the road when the kid got hit…but not that it was a kid…we wouldn't know, because we weren't there…" Burt shot Vicky a sideways glance, and she nodded her head in approval. But no one answered Burt's call.

"Hello?" Vicky tried. No answer.

"Alright, this is the FBI! Drop your weapons, open the door, and put your hands in the air!" And to Vicky and Burt's amazement, the creaky screen door slowly opened to display a little, girl, no older than eight, standing in the doorway to what looked like a ravaged living room. An oversized, plain, navy-blue dress hung loosely around the girl's small frame, a faded periwinkle collared shirt finishing off what could have been attire for Sunday church. Crayons were scattered around her booted feet. From her appearance, the two adults began to think that this was an Amish community, and they felt bad about intruding and acting so rashly.

"Can I take my hands down now, please?" the girl asked meekly but politely.

"Of course you can, sweety," replied Vicky, entering the house. The girl backed up with each step Vicky took.

"We're sorry if we scared you," Burt apologized, "but we need to talk to an adult."

"There aren't many of those around here," the girl informed them. "If you can find anyone in the cornfield to talk to, you're in big trouble, though." Vicky had no clue what the girl was talking about, but she went ahead and introduced herself and her boyfriend, soon discovering that the little girl was called Sarah.

"Like I said," the girl continued, "if you actually find anybody to talk to, it's probably a bad thing."

"Vicky," Burt said shakily and getting up from his seat on the bed, "I'm gonna go look in the town hall--this kid's freakin' me out." He walked out of the room and back out the front door.

"ALRIGHT! THIS IS THE FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION! IF I DON'T SEE SOME PEOPLE OUT HERE IN FIVE SECONDS, THERE'S GONNA BE HELL TO PAY!" is what Sarah and Vicky heard from the street in front of the house.

"Vicky, is he crazy?" Sarah asked.

"Yes."

"Do you love him?" Long pause.

"Yes," Vicky sighed, smiling. "So…" she drawled, "what are you doing up here that's so secret?" Sarah didn't' answer, instead just shifted her eyes to the floor. "Come on, you can tell me!"

"I'm building a nuclear warhead," the girl finally replied.

"Well, what's so secret about that?" inquired the woman.

"I'm not supposed to."

"Who says?"

"The government. And Isaac and Malachai, but I can handle them."

"Who are Isaac and Malachai?" _What strange names, _Vicky thought.

"Malachai used to be our friend. He was my brother's math tutor for a while, but then…" Sarah glanced at the blueprints for her bomb and began to cry.

"Then what, honey?" Vicky wiped away the girl's tears and looked her straight in her large green eyes.

"Then He Who Walks Behind The Rows made himself known to Isaac. Isaac thought it was a good idea. He was only twelve at the time, but he was a child preacher so everybody believed him. He commanded that all the adults be…that they should be--" But Sarah was too upset to finish her sentence. On instinct, Vicky held the little girl and caressed her hair, saying, "Don't you worry about a thing. I'm here now." However, Sarah ceaselessly cried in protest, "No, they'll find us! I'm in big trouble!" Vicky was troubled…but not nearly troubled enough. For all of a sudden, Sarah's crying came to a halt, her eyes widened and darter to the window, her ears seemed to have picked up something inaudible to Vicky.

"Someone's coming," Sarah said.


	6. And so it continues

Okay…on to Chapter 7! If I can stay up late enough, I hope to finish the rest of part one, but I've got to get up early for my high school placement testing in the morning, so I'll see how that goes. So you are aware, it gets kind of eerie, dramatic, and graphic, but everything turns out okay and it's not too bad! I almost made myself cry writing it, but I may have actually been just crying from boredom because I was in social studies at the time. Enjoy!

Chapter 7

_Hm, _thought Burt looking around Hansen's Café, _there must be a cornfield around here. _Corn had been stuffed into every crack and crevice available. He then looked out the window and finally realized for the first time that practically the whole town was surrounded by a massive expanse of cornfield…way to go Mr. Obvious, huh? _Always seems to be the last place I look! _Burt shook his head and laughed. He had checked the town hall, which was as deserted as every other place. He had been through the school, all the stores, restaurants…the only place he had not thought to check was the church.

…INSIDE THE CHURCH…

"Amos, I realize that doing it the traditional way smothers your creative side, but I don't know if He Who Walks Behind The Rows is ready to accept impressionism as a sign that you are ready for your Passage." Curly haired, 16-year-old Rachel faced Amos on the altar of the church, frustrated with his idiocy but concerned about his mental well-being. As did all 19-year-olds, Amos was beginning his passage. However, as opposed to the usual symbol they were required to cut into their chests (the inverted pentagram), Amos had cut a giant happy face over his solar plexus, a little heart where his actual heart was, outlined his muscles, and wrote the words, "Real Men Wear Pink" along his clavicle. With his blood, he filled a small basket made of corn kernels and gave it to Rachel.

"Amos, I refuse to drink this until you cut the _correct _symbol." Rachel shoved the basket into Amos's hands.

"Fine," the boy grumbled. He poured the blood out onto the floor, cut an inverted pentagram directly below the heart, and refilled the basket.

"And now, the blood of Amos will be shared!" Rachel gushed. She loved watching other people's passages. It meant that they no longer had to suffer-

"Hey, stop that!" Rachel's thinking was rudely interrupted by a tall, blonde adult male racing through the church and yelling.

"Who the hell is this?" Rachel asked blandly, quite annoyed.

"Burt Retzky, Ph.D," he said. Then, all the children spent the next hour arguing over what "Ph.D" spelled.

"It's 'fud'!"

"Fud?! What in Sam-hill is a fud?!"

"I guess it's kinda like a 'thud.'"

"Or mud!"

"But Mary, Ph.D doesn't have a 'u' in it."

"So?"

"QUIET!" Rachel finally screeched. "It doesn't MATTER what a Ph.D is, much less a 'fud'! Whatever those are do not affect our immediate situation, which is this guy!"

"Yeah, no kidding," said Burt, entirely oblivious to the fact that Rachel was referring to him (he thought she was talking about Amos). "Why does his torso look like 'Pablo Picasso Gone Stark Raving Mad'? Do you have any idea of how huge of a health hazard this could become?

"Sir, I think you should be a little more concerned about your own health at this point," Amos growled as he and the other children began closing in on the interloper. Rachel picked up the corn-handled dagger which Amos had used to create his "art" and held it behind her back.

"Jonah, get Isaac--no, wait. I think this one calls for a full-scale, first class maiming…bring Malachai!" Jonah sprinted away, and the rest of the kids saw Rachel grinning sheepishly and blushing. Everyone knew that Rachel was a sucker for red-heads, and Malachai was no exception. Rachel constantly talked about how she loved his eyes, his body was perfect, he always smelled good…how she had ever gotten close enough to actually smell Malachai the kids never knew, but they were almost positive that he was not crazy enough to allow that sort of behaviour.

"Malachai comes!" shouted Jonah as he ran back down the aisle. Rachel was on the verge of brutally stabbing Burt with the dagger, but then she saw Malachai gliding down behind Jonah, and Rachel quickly became dumbfounded and love struck. Malachai smiled and took the knife from her.

"Hey, Chai Chai," Rachel giggled, her face beet-red.

"Hi, Rachel," Malachai replied, walking over to Burt; then he whipped around and shouted, "Chai Chai?!" Rachel just giggled and replied "oopsie, slip of the tongue!" Malachai eyed Rachel suspiciously, then looked Burt up and down.

"Hair: tousled and unkempt. Teeth: coffee stained. Clothes: outdated. Elbows: knobby. Knees: spindly. Kinda shabby, aren't ya?" Malachai had walked in a full circle around Burt and was pretending to inspect and evaluate him.

"What are you doing, Malachai?" Rachel interrogated him. "What's gotten into you?"

"Yeah, maim the man for god's sake!" added Elijah.

"Brothers and sisters, there has been a change of plans," Malachai announced, hands on hips. No one moved.

"By any chance, Malachai, if that really _is _your name, were the original plans to throw my girlfriend and me into a fire pit and watch us slowly burn to death?" asked Burt curiously.

"No--the original plans were to remove your manly parts with a scythe--and womanly parts in your girlfriend's case--hang you high on a cross until you turn blue in the face, _then _throw your girlfriend and you into a fire pit and watch you slowly burn to death," Malachai responded politely.

"Oh. You said you changed those plans?"

"Yes. Quite."

"Good." Burt was just then beginning to realize that something wasn't right in that town.

"So, Malachai," said Rachel, taking her chances and moving closer to him. She rested her hand on his chest and fiddled with the buttons on his plaid shirt. _Ooh, _she thought, _he's all warm and soft like a teddy bear! _"Malachai, what are these new…_plans _of yours?" Rachel had leaned forward and had whispered the words "plans of yours" sensually into the redhead's ear. Malachai didn't seem to notice that she was quite tactfully trying to seduce him. Out of all the corn children, he was the only one who didn't seem to see that Rachel was insanely in love with him.

"Well, let me put it this way. I'm going to ask you something that will question all that Isaac has ever taught you, all that I have ever said…brothers and sisters…if you were given the chance, if you could just have that moment back…would you have done what you all helped Isaac and me do three years ago?" Malachai ceased speaking for a while and gazed around the room. Some of the younger children looked confused, while others seemed ashamed. Elijah's eyes were stinging with the salty tears of hatred; hatred for himself, hatred for Malachai and Isaac and what they all had done. He didn't like to dwell on it, and was doing his best to simply forget.

"All of you who wish we had never done this, and that we could fix it to the best of our ability, raise your hands. Go ahead, be honest with me. Malachai's own hand shot up. It took a moment, but slowly, Elijah stepped forward and meekly raised his hand. All the other children in the audience shyly imitated him, some in shock and some just mentally begging for this to not be a dream. It wasn't.

"Exactly as I'd thought…and hoped." But there was one person Malachai didn't see. "Rachel?" He turned around to look at her. She was positioned behind him, her shoulders hunched and her head hung over the corn basket. From the way she was standing, one would think that she was just praying over it. But as Malachai looked closer, he noticed that the girl was crying; very quietly, but he noticed. He reached out and pulled her close, engulfing her with a strong, young, loving embrace. _He's being strong…he's not worried…so why should I be? _thought Rachel. At times, long ago when the town was still a town, Malachai had reminded her a lot of Atticus Finch from Harper Lee's To Kill A Mockingbird because of his understanding and level headedness…_ "it's not time worry yet."_

"Okay," Malachai concluded, pulling away from Rachel, "here's what's going to happen. Elijah and Jonah, stay here. If anyone comes, such as Isaac, you find a way to keep him here. I'd also like two people on the outside on Isaac Patrol, try to stall him before he even gets into the church. I need two good liars." The hands of Ruth and Timothy shot into the air.

"Alright, get out there. Rachel, take the rest of them back into the cornfield. Act natural, I want NO suspicions about ANYTHING. Get them situated, then go 'on point.' The 'point' is that traffic light out there. It will give you a good view of every direction, and if anything happens, that will be our meeting place.

"Malachai, I'm glad you seem to know what you're doing, but why all this heightened security?" asked Elijah inquisitively.

"Trust me, you'll want it. Now was I perfectly clear?" Everyone nodded. "Good." As the children went to their assignments, Malachai turned to Burt and said, "You got a name, Interloper?"

"Burt Retzky."

"Malachai Boardman." The two shook hands. "Let's go."

Okay, I'm much to tired to sleep right now, plus it seems impossible because of this awful humidity and hay fever! Also, I'm really nervous because I'm doing an Irish dance in the talent show tomorrow…wish me luck! Here's chapter 8!

Chapter 8

PLEASE NOTE: BECAUSE OF SOME OF THE CONTENT IN THIS CHAPTER, READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED…I don't remember what I rated this fanfic, but then again, I think that if you are mature and old enough to have either read or seen COTC, then you are definitely mature and/or old enough to read this. Thankyou!

"Who are you? What the hell do you want?" demanded Vicky. "And where'd you get the asparagus--it looks good." She tried to catch a piece in her mouth as a tall boy who looked about seventeen years old slapped her repeatedly with a variety of vegetables. He was a tall, slender figure draped with a black trench coat. His gaunt face and deep green eyes were hidden by the shadow of his wide brimmed hat from beneath which spilled thin, straight black hair onto the boy's shoulders.

"His name is Jack" Sarah informed Vicky.

"Ah, thank you."

Both of you, sit still and shut up!" Jack growled, and the two females jumped. Jack took hold of Vicky and Sarah's hair and jerked their heads backwards. "Alex?" he beckoned. He younger boy with messy brown hair and light skin stepped forward and handed Jack a large leather whip. Sarah knew hat was coming.

"Jack, please, no--AH!" Sarah was whipped hard across the face. A small stream of crimson fluid trickled down her face mixed with tears of extreme pain. And Jack didn't stop. Each time, Sarah's cries became quieter and quieter until they were reduced to small whimpers, signifying her surrender. Just as Jack was reaching for Vicky-

"OW! CRAP, BITCH!" Vicky had reached up and smacked Jack upside the head. He wasted no time in whipping her too, but Sarah had regained her strength and gotten up off the ground. She picked up a large rock from the ground, and-

"Hit him where it hurts, Sarah, quick!" Quite suddenly, Jack felt a searing pain, well…where it hurts for a guy. As he yowled in agony and hopped away, Vicky had just enough time to gather up her own strength and whisk Sarah to safety in and old shed.

"Jobie!" Sarah hollered once inside the shed. A young boy about a year or two older than Sarah ran towards her.

"I heard you screaming, Sarah. Are you okay?"

"Yes. This nice lady saved me." Then Sarah proceeded to explain how she and Vicky had met.

"Malachai hasn't found her yet, has he?" asked Job.

"No, but Jack will change that very quickly. He's Malachai's head henchman.

"Who's my head henchman?" said a curious voice outside the shed. Sarah and Job gasped loudly and then stopped breathing, trying not to think about the horrors that would befall them in the next few minutes. As a tall, red-haired boy entered the room, the children's minds went numb with fear…until they saw the head of Jack's little assistant dangling from Malachai's hand and a bloody knife in the other.

"Okay," sighed Sarah at long last, "who are you, and what have you done with the real Malachai?"

"You should have asked me that three years ago, Sarah. I'm sick of this. If I don't free myself as well as you and the others, I'll go insane. But then if I do go through with it…Isaac will basically give me an autopsy while I'm still alive then offer my guts to He Who Walks Behind the Rows as a gift." Everyone just stared at him. "You do see my problem here, yes?" The others casually nodded their heads saying, "yes, of course."

"Hey Carrot-Top," called a second voice that Vicky actually recognized. "What are we gonna do with the body?"

"What are _we _gonna do with it? Burt, man, that's your problem!"

"_My _problem?! Dude, you were the one who sliced his head off!"

"Yeah, but I shouted 'not it' and ran away first! So there!"

"Burt?"

"Not now, Vicky. Malachai, I swear, I…oh, dear…" Burt seemed to be losing the argument anyway, but now things just got a bit worse. A short boy with brown hair, beady eyes, and a pale face had come into the shed…and he did _not_ look happy.

"Malachai--what in the name of He Who Walks Behind the Rows is going on in here?" The boy demanded.

"……"

"Malachai?"

"Oh, yes, sorry, Isaac, I was just killing them." Malachai leapt onto Burt's back and held his knife up to Burt's neck.

"INTERLOPER! YOU HAVE LOOKED IN AWE UPON YOUR VERY LAST DAY ALIVE!" he yelled.

"YOU MONSTER! YOU'LL BE HEARING from my…law…yer…I guess…" Isaac looked at the two of them as Malachai apathetically climbed down off of Burt's shoulders.

"I see you have made your decision?" Isaac asked. But to Malachai, it didn't seem like much of a question.

"Isaac, I-"

"No. Stop…I'm sorry, Malachai." Isaac rolled up his sleeves and started toward his former friend, drawing a knife from his side pocket.

"Isaac, what are you gonna do to him?"

"Kids, I don't want you to watch this. Vicky, Burt…don't let them see," pleaded Malachai, his voice shaking like a leaf. Burt obediently put his hands on the shoulders of the young children and tried to guide them away.

Hmm…let's see…shall I be nice and go on, or shall I be selfish by leaving you hanging and going out skating instead..? Decisions, decisions…Nope, I think I'll get a Dr. Pepper first, then do more! :D


	7. getting ugly, but DON'T WORRY! Inspired ...

And so it continues…(if you get sick easily or are extremely sensitive to blood and guts, do not read this part. Skip down to chapter nine. But, then again, if you've even seen or read COTC in the first place, I don't see why this would be problem for you.)

"Open your shirt," Isaac said sadly. Malachai slowly obeyed, displaying strong abdominal muscles from three harsh years of working in the cornfields.

"Isaac, what are you doing?"

"Sarah, don't look. Now go!" Malachai was scared stiff. Without another word, Sarah and Job ran crying from the room, the two adults soon to follow.

"I hate to do this to you, Malachai. I've always liked you." Malachai didn't answer. He couldn't answer. He just swallowed hard. Isaac took his finger and drew an imaginary guideline on Malachai's skin where he was going to cut.

__

Oh my God, this is it…thought Malachai. Isaac gave Malachai a hug and whispered, "I'll miss you" into his ear, "but it is God's word." The preacher kept an arm around Malachai so that he wouldn't collapse backwards, and, trying not to look his ex-follower in the face, Isaac slowly poked his knife through the soft tissue of Malachai's belly and slid it down.

At first, Isaac's victim didn't feel anything. The cut was smooth, and probably killed many of the nerves. Then, he felt kind of a dull soreness around the wound, and he couldn't tell if he was breaking out in a hot sweat or was desperately cold, but he was starting to feel light headed.

"Goodbye," Isaac said. His voice was cracking, but Malachai's vision was too blurred to be able to see Isaac's face. He felt a hand reach up into his chest cavity and start to pull…but just as he began to feel a something inside come loose, he heard a resounding bang followed by a loud and pained "OW!" As Malachai's vision became clear for about five seconds, he caught a glimpse of a teenage girl with dark curly hair standing over Isaac's unconscious body with a frying pan in her hand, hollering, "That'll teach **_you_** to screw around with my Chai Chai!" After that, he saw nothing.

Chapter 9

"Is he okay? Please let him live--oh, God, please, **_let him live!" _**Job was pacing around the top floor of the barn, sobbing and praying desperately. Rachel and the two adults had managed to get Malachai out of the little shed and into the large barn without leaving to much blood for anyone to follow. Rachel, a good seamstress from three years of making clothes, had sewn Malachai's stomach and, although his breathing was sharp and was not yet awake, had succeeded in keeping him alive.

"He'll be fine, Job, I'm sure…" said Vicky rather uneasily.

"…Huh…where…Job?" was heard from a pile of hay over in the corner of the room. The barn was dark, and the sun was setting quickly, but Vicky, Burt, Sarah, and Job could make out a tall figure rising slowly to its feet and stumble over into the wall.

"Malachai?" Rachel called softly. She had just come back from getting a clean shirt for him from her father's closet in her old house.

"Rachel…"

"Sit down. I'll come to you." Malachai obeyed, and Rachel bustled over and gave him the shirt. A flannel blue and black plaid button up that Malachai was too lazy to button, it was far too big for him, but comfortable.

"Okay," he said, holding his stomach as if it were going to fall apart at any second, "Burt, go down and make sure the area is all clear. Vicky and Rachel, on point. Rachel, make sure everyone knows where that is." Rachel nodded.

"Malachai, I don't think this is such a good idea…I mean, you're still hurt-"

"I'm fine Job, but thank you. I want you and Sarah to stay here. Burt, signal the girls and me if it's safe. Got it?"

"Got it." Burt started down a ladder and descended quickly to the ground floor of the barn. It smelled awful down there, like something had gone in there and died…looking into a darker corner of the room, Burt discovered where the bodies of all the dead adults had been hidden. He shuddered and suppressed a horrified scream, and set to looking around the outside of the barn. He found nobody, however he saw what looked like flames blazing out in the cornfield.

"AAAAHHHHH! SOMEONE, QUICK! THE CORN'S ON FIRE!"

"SSSHH!" were the hushed responses that flew through the air. Burt heard two loud thumps, and saw that Malachai and Rachel had jumped halfway down the ladder to come and have a look.

"It's just Amos's passage, Burt. Remember from before? Pablo Picasso Gone Stark Raving Mad?" Rachel reminded. Burt nodded.

"Wait a minute…I forgot! I totally forgot about the passage! We still have time to stop it, come on!" Malachai jumped and started running. Vicky started helping the younger kids down despite Malachai's orders. Rachel easily caught up with her weakened companion as he stopped to catch his breath, the four others close behind.

He told Rachel and Vicky to retrieve the others still waiting in the church, and Burt to take the kids into town and hide until Malachai and only Malachai came to get them.

"Malachai…"

"Rachel, do as I say, go on!" Rachel didn't move, instead pleaded with him to be careful, and that she didn't know how tight the stitches were, and so on. He turned and stared deeply into her wide, terrified eyes.

"I love you, Rachel."

And he took off.

"Do you think something happened to him and that crazy man?" Timothy suggested worriedly. "Like Isaac?"

"Who knows," replied Ruth, and then added, "who even cares" under her breath. The ever apathetic Ruth didn't think that anyone would make it out alive."

_"Their house is a museum_

Where people come to see 'em

They really are a scree-um," sang Ruth, skipping around a tree,

"_the Adams family!" _No sooner had Ruth finished singing when Rachel and Vicky came bounding towards them, screaming things all at once, until finally, Timothy hollered "FREEZE!" sending Vicky and Rachel about ten feet in the air. They were asked to explain it so that everyone could understand, so they did. They then sent Timothy off to guard one end of the main street with his huge black machete, and Rachel went to the designated point in case of something happening…wasn't sure what, just following orders. Vicky and Ruth went into the church, where they met up with the others that Malachai had told to stay there. There they lay, beneath pews, waiting to die, waiting for rescue, waiting for further commands, with no clue how much longer…

_"In my memory…I will always see…the town that I…have loved so well…" _The Dubliners were Rachel's favourite band, an Irish group, with phenomenal talent. She had wanted to be an Irish folk singer, and she was well on her way before Isaac interfered. Rachel had a beautiful voice, and so did Malachai. The night was cold and lonely; no one seemed to be coming, so the girl took the opportunity to look back--back on her dreams, back on her and Malachai's small Irish band back when he was a freshman in high school and she was in 7th grade.

Chapter 10: _3 years ago, night before the coffee shop massacre…_

"Now the music's gone, but they carry on

For their spirits' been bruised, never broken

They will not forget, but their hearts are set

On tomorrow and peace once again.

For what's done is done, and what's won is won

And what's lost is lost and gone forever.

I can only pray for a bright, brand new day

In the town I loved so well." Malachai drew the bow slowly over the strings of his old violin, and Rachel made the last strum on her guitar the softest.

"Wow…" Rachel said quietly, "I've always loved that song! You're a kickass violinist, Malachai, have you been practicing?"

"Not really," he laughed.

"Liar!" Rachel accused jokingly. She and her friend made a great team. The band consisted of them and some backup instrumentalists, and it was called _Call of the Celts. _They were a hit in their town, as well as many surrounding.

"You ready for the gig in Hemingford tomorrow, Chai?"

"Um…yeah…"

"What's wrong?" asked Rachel. A look of sadness spread across Malachai's face. "Are you okay?"

"Yes."

"Do you wanna talk about?"

"…I wanna practice."

"Okay." So they set their instruments down, had their backup instrumentalists get ready, and busted into a soft-shoe reel, pounding out the different steps in their minds.

_Push down, hop down, lift out, scissor-kick...why does he look so upset?_

Step, glide down

Step glide down...should I tell her?

Push down, slide out...I wish I knew what he was thinking

Jump, twirl jump...I wish I knew what she was thinking

Cut point…he'll be fine

Hop back…I'll tell her. I've got nothing to lose.

"Rachel, stop. Everyone, stop." The music ceased, and Rachel looked triumphantly into her friend's eyes.

"Hah! I knew something was up with you!"

"Excuse us, guys." Malachai took Rachel's hand and lead her out of his garage and into his serene front yard. It was a beautiful night. Stars were bright and undisturbed by light pollution against a deep purple sky. The usually summer fragrances of freshly cut grass, neighbours' barbecues and insect repellent settled in the breeze. Two deer scampered into the hedges at the sight of the two teenagers.

"So…what's up?" asked Rachel brightly, encouraging Malachai to spill his feelings.

"Rachel--I don't want to scare you. But you need to know…you know Isaac Chroner, don't you?"

"Yes, he lives down the street from me. What about him?"

"Well, you see…he needs us to do something for him tomorrow at Hanson's…something drastic…"

__

Present day

And that was it, Rachel thought, _he left, and I didn't see him again until I saw him standing over the body of Officer Hotchkiss in the schoolyard._

"RACHEL! RACHEL! THEY SAW US!" Job screeched, frantically running towards her down one of the side roads, Burt, Timothy and Sarah after him. She heard other voices, but those didn't sound as friendly.

"Rachel, this is it! IT'S NOW OR NEVER!" cried Vicky coming from the opposite direction. The kids were followed closely by Malachai, who, once again, was busy hollering demands.

"Elijah, block off Oak Street! Mary, Catherine, Andrew! Take that side! Where's Burt and Vicky?"

"We're here!" called Burt. He and Vicky ran to Malachai and took from him two lethal weapons. They were not too intent on killing anybody, but then figured that in a town like this one, it probably didn't matter. All those under Malachai's rule scattered down the streets as a few of Isaac's minions began sneaking down a side alley. Rachel sprinted over to her friend and they held each other in a tight embrace.

"Chai Chai, did you break up the passage?"

"Of course! What do you think started all of this? Isaac was beside himself, and Amos didn't know what hit him!" They were speaking in harsh whispers to each other, Malachai still not strong enough to talk much louder than that. Aside from their voices, the town square was silent, the children waiting at their posts for more orders. None came.

"Malachai…do you think this is what the rebels in Ireland feel like?" Malachai grinned at his friend and said, "sure, I guess so." The two held each other, Malachai's bare chest warm against Rachel's face…she could have fallen asleep…if not for-

"Malachai, look out!" Rachel jumped out of the way, watching Malachai

do the same, as Isaac came hurtling at them, driving them apart. Then they didn't see each other again until much, much later…

Chapter 11

"Malachai, what on Earth do you think you are doing?" an angry voice came from off to the side. The last thing he saw before he and Rachel were parted was that Isaac was also nowhere to be seen, so Malachai knew that Rachel was safe…or that she was probably safe…he hoped she was safe.

"Malachai, are you even listening to me?" Burt came running at Malachai and practically dragged him away from where he was standing into a vacant alley. "It's not safe for you out here."

"Burt, it's not safe for anyone out here-"

"But especially you. You're still not well, you lost a lot of blood earlier. Now, you get into Hanson's, and you stay in Hanson's."

"But-"

"No!" Burt pushed the eighteen-year-old through the door of the abandoned restaurant and sprinted away into the night.

Okay, I really hope you enjoyed that! Please review, I'm gonna write more ASAP!"

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